Last Resort
by Telepathapprentice
Summary: Russia isn't the only one who's subject to the whims of his bosses. Warning: This story addresses the controversy surrounding the bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Please address if you feel it's not appropriate. I do not own Hetalia, or the characters therein.


Reading over the last of the paper, America stared, speechless, as his boss concluded.

"'...with prompt and utter destruction.'" Nodding, the president stood, looking to the nation. "Well, America? It seems firm enough to me. Now, we simply need to-"

"Are you sure about this?" Standing, America hesitated, nodding to the paper. "This seems a bit…over the top. Too much. We don't need to-"

"Japan hasn't followed their friends in surrender. The Pacific is still a hotbed." Placing a hand against his desk, the president nodded, staring at the country. "We need to do what we have to, America. There's no other option."

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely, utterly sure? Sir, we can't simply go in, threatening them-"

"They threatened us first! They attacked us first, if you remember."

"So what? We don't have to do this!"

"The message is being sent, America. The dominoes are starting to fall."

"But you can stop this! We have to!" Leaning over the desk, America stared the other man in the face, images of his former friend at the forefront of his thoughts. "Japan-the people-they haven't done anything to us. This is war, sir, not slaughter."

"That's not what I'm proposing here, America." Sighing tiredly, the president sat back in his chair. "We're doing what we have to. The die has been cast."

"But sir-the people-"

"Our boys are out there, dying like rats. Do you want that?" Looking to him, the president sat up. "Our men, _our_ people are trapped in their boats, drowning as the Japs pepper them with bullets-do you want that, America? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want that seaman to come home-to see his little sister again, or hug his mother goodnight? Can you look in her eyes, and apologize for yet another Japanese bomb that's destroyed an outpost, killing her son and his best friends? Can you, America?"

America hesitated, standing back. "Sir, I-"

"This is for the good of all of us, America. I'm sorry to do it, and I wish we didn't have to, but this is war. They have forced our hand. I'm going to do what I have to in order to keep my people safe. Will you support me with this? Or will you oppose our best hope of success?"

America quieted, slowly glancing at the floor. He shuffled uncertainly for a moment, mind racing, then slowly nodded. "You have a way to carry out this threat, correct?"

"We do. I can't let you know the details, but if the Japs refuse to give in, we have ways to convince them." The president nodded, standing to take the papers from his desk. "Thank you, America. You've been a great encouragement."

"Yeah. Sure." He slowly filed out of the room behind his boss, eyes on the ground as he left. The president moved to speak to another well-dressed man, whispering to him, and America could feel his heart sink as the whispering grew around him.

Clearing his throat, America stood before the podium, staring out at the other nations assembled at the small meeting table. As he had expected, all eyes were on him, and he could feel the sweat trickling down his back as he panicked inside the restrictive dress shirt. Nodding firmly for emphasis, he placed his hands against the wood, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"World War Two is finally over. The Japanese have agreed to surrender. Congratulations, Allies. We won." He waited for a moment, letting the inevitable question trickle through the room. "America-I-did what I had to. We finished the war without further casualties. We managed to stop a war that could have lasted for decades. We won. And yes, we have nuclear weapons. We have that firepower. Without it, we would never have made it. We used two separate bombs in strikes against two Japanese cities."

"America-"

"We did what we had to. We were forced. Our interests were those of not only our nation, but of our world." Looking to England, who had interrupted him, America nodded. "We had no other choice. I made the call I had to."

"But…" Speechless, England sat back, eyes wide. "Nuclear firepower?"

"Yes. As I said, without it we would not have been able to make the strikes we did. We did what was necessary."

"And we congratulate you for it." Smiling faintly, Russia nodded, placing his hands on the table to stand. "It seems that is that, then. Congratulations, all of you. We have done well."

The two blondes stared at him, afraid to speak. Russia looked to both of them, thinking, then straightened, taking his coat before turning to go. This silent signal heralded the end of the meeting, and slowly, the other nations began to file out. In the hallway, America hesitated, glancing down at the folio in his hands before feeling another's eyes on him. Looking up, he ended up staring straight at England, whose dark green eyes seemed to bore into him.

"Did you hesitate?"

"What?" America paused, blinking.

"Did you even think for a moment before pushing the button, or picking up the phone, or doing whatever you do to start the process-did you hesitate?"

"I-you-I didn't-" Stammering, America watched as England slowly walked away, disappearing around a corner. To his dismay, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and straightened fully in an attempt to appear larger.

"You did well."

"I figured you would appreciate the move, Commie." Though his tone was civil, both of them knew they were dancing on figurative thin ice. More policies were completed in this hallway, after all, rather than inside the formal meeting room.

"You should get your men back home."

"We're working on it. Believe me, we don't want to stay there any longer than we have to."

"Good! Then I would be happy to assist. Japan cannot be feeling too kindly towards you at the moment-"

"Shut up."

"It is not a matter of opinion, malyutka, it is a statement of fact. Perhaps having another, calmer voice in the mix would help…even things out?" Smiling, Russia strode forward, glancing back at the other nation. "Think it over, might you?"

"Russia-" Sighing, America watched him leave. He stood there for a moment longer, thinking, then reluctantly began finding his way back towards the exit, dreading the days-no, weeks-to come.


End file.
